ECLECTIC ELECTRIC
After all, it was true
These floating blue lights,
Were really you
And the shots more fired
She wore it to my last desire
Compelled, one footed bird on a wire,
Electronically wired
What was more
Was even less, something not nothing
Put to rest
Times two, new shoe
Freeze forming new nights,
Were really true
And the blankets on fire,
He wore it to his new hire
Compelled, one footed money liar
Actually tired
What, on shore?
Was blessed? Something not nothing?
Made this mess?
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(The original poem’s visual presentation was lost with Word Press setting. Hope to correct this soon)
Copyright, Christopher Leet 2011
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tITreccwwMs